Requital
by Apuleia
Summary: The dead must find their place in a complicated new world. Bellatrix is given an opportunity to confront her most dangerous enemy.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, credit to J.K. Rowling.**

Separate-

And tossed into an empty space, Bellatrix Lestrange was falling. Awareness of her recent defeat in the Great Hall burning fresh even as she was now tumbling through a new reality. A fierce sort of wind seemed to be pulling at her, sucking her further down into a dark chasm.

She struggled against it in a pitiful, pointless kind of manner, yelling and cursing and flailing around. And all the while her mind and body were powerless to resist whatever force had ahold. It was as if she was trying to jerk out of a sudden nightmare. Moments in time passed in that abyss, and Bellatrix was beginning to recognize her hopeless condition. But while time seemed to pass there was no relief from the turbulence. Like an itch that could not be scratched, she wished for some change in her state, some brief pause that would allow her the small dignity of pulling her hair out of her face.

Constant and unending fear had blocked her instinct for preparation, for self-preservation. In fact it took Bellatrix far too long to discover that her wand, among her other possessions, was missing. She never remembered parting with it. Dread now jumped to the forefront of emotions running through her mind, the ground appearing closer each second. She feared she would violently smash against it, and break apart. After a renewed effort of will Bellatrix attempted a wandless cushioning charm to no avail. She was not really certain if she had actually attempted the spell.

With each moment she was as sure as the last that she would hit the bottom, because it seemed so clearly in sight, since although there was nothing but patterns of varying shades of darkness surrounding her, she thought she could make out the telling shapes of the ground. Her heart gave a quick jolt of anxiety each time the bottom seemed to appear, but time and time again she was mistaken and there was no end. The skin of her face was burning from the harsh wind which both pushed and pulled against her. All the while her stomach was flipping, craving stability, but at no point could she throw up. She desired very much the freedom to scream.

….…..…..

Bellatrix felt her awareness dwindle a little and then spike. She was no longer falling. The new scene before her was an endless sheet of glittering ice below a solid grey sky. Mesas jutted out across the field in the distance. It was cold. Mind numbingly cold. She was wearing only the dress she had worn when she fell at the Battle of Hogwarts.

It seemed to Bellatrix that she was completely and utterly alone. That she would freeze here. There was no access to magic in her state, her brain and memory working together just as efficiently as the cold to cripple her. "HELLO! HELLO! HELP ME!" she screeched, and her calls were unanswered as they spread across the ice. Again and again she called out but her voice turned to a scratchy whisper and was lost.

She was panicked. What had happened after she was taken down by the Weasley woman? Had they won? Bellatrix took a shaky breath. If _He _had been defeated that might be enough break her. She wasn't sure she could handle a second time. _No_. Of course he had won. There simply was no other option. The thought gave her some energy and Bellatrix picked a direction and tried to run. She moved a few feet forward before she fell and her face slapped hard against the ice. Eventually she sat up, supposing, not for the first time that all of it was pointless. The fall had not even made a nick in the ice.

_Snap_. Two figures had suddenly apparated a few yards from Bellatrix. She began to stand, an uncomfortable affair. She had to use both hands to push herself off the ground making her palms sting. Once up, she teetered, close to falling again. The two beings approached her. The first, Bellatrix saw, was a satyr, completely garbless and wearing a relaxed expression. He was, apparently, entirely unbothered by the frigid conditions. And when he stepped towards her she saw his hooves were not troubled by the ice. The other figure was less discernable. It was wearing a hood and long robes and it wavered a bit behind him.

"What is this?" Bellatrix asked the satyr.

"This is your second life, the one you have paid for." His answer was conveyed with a practiced grace.

"No." Bellatrix said with anger. "You will take me out of his horrid place and you will tell me what is going on. I was at Hogwarts and I need to kn-" "Silence, foul witch. Here you are in no position to make demands." He had only raised his voice slightly and his words lacked attention to care.

"This is the time to strive for self-advancement," he continued. "There is no point in remaining stubborn. You are here to receive your damnation." Bellatrix stared at him unbelieving.

Still she went on. "Tell me what happened to him you goddamn half-breed freak! If you don't I will make your life a living hell, I promise you!" She looked a pathetic mess now, her hair was tousled and despite the cold her cheeks had turned a beet red color.

The satyr shrugged a bit, "He is dead. And in no better position than you find yourself now."

"Lies! You are lying! I _saw_ the boy die. I saw it!" Bellatrix heard the alarm in her own voice. "How can he be dead if Potter is dead? It is impossible!"

He declined to answer her further and simply stared as she ranted at him.

"Bellatrix Lestrange… of House of Black," he said after some time. "You have been charged with counts of murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree, torture, conspiracy to murder and torture, arson, and escape from custody. A deranged mind like yours, lacking in empathy, cannot amend for the amount of emotional and physical damage you have created with an ordinary set punishment. As such your sentence is transferred _Somatics_\- You will become familiar with your crimes by living each one of them yourself. You will do this until you have paid for them in full. This sentence will be extended for an undisclosed amount of time to account for the fear and terror you helped instill in the hearts of the magical and muggle communities." Bellatrix laughed at the pronouncement.

He evaluated her then, his face revealing neither pity or disdain. "I have nothing more to say to you. Goodbye Madam Lestrange." As soon as he said this the satyr disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

The cloaked figure stepped forward and raised a human hand towards her. It compelled her to drop to her knees. Bellatrix clenched her jaw and tried to peer up into the robed stranger's face. As she did, the thing drew closer and it bent over to her. Bellatrix was looking directly through it.

Now it was impossible to tear away from it, she had traveled to a new space all within herself. She was not her own being anymore. Before she retained some control, now her body was gone, now she was a passive being. She was locked into an unwelcome, foreign existence.

….…..…..

There was burning. She could see the hints of the orange flames from her second floor window. A crisp smell had awaken her from deep sleep moments ago. Snapping out of a sleep-like trance Emma ran downstairs, frantic to check on her two sleeping kids. They still slept and she roused them awake. But she paused in thought as they readied themselves to leave, these children were revolting and they were no use to her, perhaps she should leave them and go on ahead on her own.

On the block across the way the two houses were burning. The echo of barking dogs was audible, one of them was her own. She walked outside and was met with an alarming sight- the block was on fire, a deteriorating shed towards the back was the last defender between one burning house and the next line of homes in the back. The two rather large houses were completely and utterly consumed in flame. "No! Jackson! Millie!" This couldn't be the way they die, maybe they made it out.

She couldn't believe the sight, how the flames had consumed the two houses so fully. They would fall. But something else in the back of her mind told her that they were dead, that this was a _good_ thing. She ran her hands through her hair, scratching the scalp, "Oh my lord, what is happening, what is happening?" She didn't understand these thoughts, it must be the shock of the situation, making her think such dreadful things. The entire house was burning and would soon fall to pieces, and she was no hero.

She hadn't known her neighbors for so long but they had their friendly exchanges. The young doctors had invited Emma, the new arrival, for tea a few weekends ago. She didn't know the people from the other house.

Suddenly, there was loud yelling from down the way at the second home. An argument. A woman's voice, distinct from the rest, resounded above the others'. Emma shivered, she knew exactly what this was, it was common in the early days of the war. On the other hand, none of it made any sense! Yes, she was going crazy, if her fear hadn't reached a fever pitch before, it did at this moment. Why hadn't the emergency vehicles come yet? Where was everyone?

Four figures emerged from the shadows. _It's the arsonists!_ she thought. Sweat collected on her forehead. They were coming towards her.

The group, illuminated by the glowing flames, consisted of three men and a woman. All dressed in black cloaks, Emma frantically turned and began walking back to her house. "And where do you think your off to?" one of the men called after her. Emma didn't turn around, and kept walking to her door. "Impedimenta", it was the woman's voice. _Her voice_. She was frozen to the spot. Somehow these people were responsible.

"Its good of you to come along when you did," the four had caught up with her and the woman was by her side talking at her, "Entirely pathetic, you things are, always running away like cowards."

Emma heard her young son, Roger, calling for her inside the house. He opened the door and peered outside. The poor child, she had told him to stay put. "Run off, I'm talking to your mum," said the woman. Emma was still immobile and she wanted to warn him… She wanted to put the filthy child down like a dog.

The man with a clean-shaven face spoke up, "Bellatrix, what should we do with him?" She shrugged, "What do I care? The filthy muggle pup is no use to me. Barty, why don't you stop hesitating and decide yourself?"

He _was_ hesitant, his eyes moved back and forth from Robert and Bellatrix. "Mummy, what's wrong?" It was confusing to the muggle child that his mother would not come to him. The man so-called Barty raised a wand like instrument- it was indeed a wand, and pointed it at her son but he only held it there. "See!" screeched the woman, "You require persuasion. We are at war, Barty! How can you possibly be suitable to serve the Dark Lord like this?"

"I'll do it." One of the others raised his wand but he was too slow. "Avada Kedavra!" Barty spoke it. The boy fell, his body wedged between the door. All the while Emma watched these events unfold, saw that the servants of the devil murder her son with witchcraft.

Her pain was immense, she could not move, that much was true, but her breaking heart rattled her mind. There was another presence at play and _she_ covered over the grieving mother's despair with her contempt, her hatred. There was no room for Emma to release her sorrow, she was being compressed to death.

"And you will take the fall for it of course," she turned to Emma, "this little incident with your boy and for the fire. Imperio!" The night became hazy through her eyes. She felt compelled to do as the strange woman had told her even as she tried to stop herself from obeying. Within seconds the people who killed her son had vanished and she heard, for the first time, the sirens of approaching vehicles.

In no time the first fire engine came to a stop in front of Jackson and Millie's place. A uniformed man stepped out to greet her. She spoke before he could manage a word, "Sir, I just set these homes on fire, I just killed my son."

….…..…..

It was time to put twelve years of wasted time to work. To pay Voldemort and his lackeys back. Harry needed him and God help him if he failed _them_ again, so thought Sirius when he entered the Department of Mysteries. These weren't his only thoughts, no. There were others, too, dark ones.

Azkaban must have truly broken him, that's the only way he would think such traitorous thoughts about the Order, about his friends. Truthfully, he was beyond terrified that they were too late. Still, he would not give in to more poisonous ideas. He and the others broke through the door, there, in front of them was that son of a billywig, Lucius Malfoy, and the rest. They had his godson surrounded. Tonks made the first move, hitting Malfoy with a well-placed stunning spell.

The room erupted into chaos, spells flying everywhere. Sirius noticed that Harry had escaped unharmed for the time being, before he was engaged with two Death Eaters. They were of little threat to him, and he knocked them out, saving them for the chumps at the Ministry. He saw Dolohov cursing his godson and came flying to his aid. Harry bound him up, like a complete natural.

He notices her for the first time, as if she could be missed. The most despicable person in this world, his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She had just knocked out Tonks. He chased after her, catching her attention. They circled each other like vicious dogs, trading spells. He was exhilarated by the action, the fight. _Where do you end and I begin?_ Bellatrix sent more spells hurling at him, they all missed him. It truly felt liberating. He taunted her. Another thought came, _You must be deranged to mock me._

And one landed, knocking him backwards. Something light had ahold of him and he felt himself falling. Surprise and relief, even despair, all at once. _No, no! Please not again!_ It would have been something to have lived a full life at Harry's side, but oh, the blessed calm! His mind was chastising him, _You lost, your death is not some respectable thing, you will gain nothing! _ Anguish. _But it feels so good to give in_, he thought back. Silence.

He was on the other side.

….…..…..

It seemed she was every sort of person in the world…

The witch's knife plunged into him. The pain was so familiar but no less excruciating, _How many times is this now_? To be stabbed to death was different from being killed with a spell. Fortunately, for Dobby she found her mark well, it would be over soon. The house elf looked up at Harry. His hate for Harry Potter was becoming less important. Perhaps it was the passage of time, perhaps it was the repetition. He whispered the name of his champion, Harry Potter, before death took him.

….…..…..

The experience of becoming another occurred within a continual rotation. It meant discarding all of it for yet another form. She knew them all, so intimately, and it was devastating. It meant she never found respite for grieving.

….…..…..

She awoke to the smell of smoke. _No, no, no_.

She ran downstairs to wake up her two children to leave. As she paused in the doorway waiting, she observed them, warm with tenderness. These were_ her_ kids. She remembered how she had held them close to her after their father left. She remembered how precious they were, they were _everything_. The center of the world. And yet Robert would die.

She stepped outside. This was her neighborhood. Her neighbors, she knew, would die too. She was regretful. It was a waste, a waste of potential. The world would miss them, and so would she. Nothing could stop the dreadful reality of it. Emma walked out the door…

….…..…..

Bellatrix sat crunched up, head in hands. _No more, please_. _If I must sit here with my pity that I will do, but no more of this nightmare_. She was starting to process where she had just been. How long had she relived horrific moments in time? How long had she taken on the tragic last moments of her victims? Years, it felt like. Maybe decades.

She lifted her head up after a time, heart pounding. Greyish skies formed a poor boundary from the solid grey ground. _Downtime before the next horror?_ she wondered. She barely had time to digest the thought before a robed figure appeared before her. This was familiar. She had seen it at the beginning. And it walked towards her. Bellatrix prepared herself, "What now?" she hissed as she stood, pain had caused her to sound angry. The figure stopped and pulled back its hood.

Bellatrix blinked in surprise. It was a woman, gaunt and almost skeleton like. Her black hair was unkempt and there were streaks of grey in it. The woman looked tattered and broken from the inside out. She continued forward in a deranged state, her face set in a snarl and she raised a wand at her. This creature meant to do her harm.

Feeling down her sides for a weapon to use to her advantage and finding none, Bellatrix braced for the impact of whatever hex would hit her. There was no stopping the witch, she was weak without her wand, without her magic.

No such hex came. The woman was muttering things, trying to formulate the words to cast her spells. When she decided that it was no good, she lowered the wand.

Now grunting a little, the woman wobbled forward to grab at her hair, and caught a bunch of it to yank. Bellatrix yelled out in pain and pushed her back. She came at her again, more enraged. Bellatrix tried to grab the woman's arm, to pry the wand away from her. Now she was biting at her and she found her mark on Bellatrix's wrist, tearing to get to the bone.

For her part, Bellatrix was not physically impaired by her animal like conduct, only surprised at the nature of it. It was shocking really, how appalling this woman was. Bellatrix kicked at her and found a target at her legs. The kick managed to stun her long enough for Bellatrix get ahold of her wand. Now they were engaged in tug of war for it and Bellatrix was the victor.

_There's something_, she thought. She pointed it at the woman and declared, "S-stupefy!" Nothing happened. The wand was useless, or she was.

Now the woman barreled into her, knocking her off stance. She wrestled her to the ground and began clawing at her face. Bellatrix brought her hands together to the top of her head, and locked her elbows together to protect her face. Bellatrix kicked her again and she fell over. It was crucial that she had the advantage. And while the woman was recovering, Bellatrix sat on top of her and assaulted her with two clean punches.

She was the stronger, but the woman would never stop. She was screaming and kicking at her. There was only one outcome. Bellatrix grabbed her neck with both hands and pressed down. Her opponent reached out to her face, trying to push her off. This way felt so close, so personal. The woman's struggles were getting feebler, until they stopped altogether. After a few minutes, she let go. Bellatrix's hands were shaking.

She sat down next to her, catching her breath. When she found a favorable position she dared look at the dead woman's face. She took in every detail of it, how time had changed her, how worry, malice and hatred had shaped each feature. Years of isolation and neglect had made them hollow. And she began to cry. Bellatrix let tears roll down her cheeks and down her dress, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she was holding her hand now.

There was someone behind her. Bellatrix turned, the satyr stood with his harms folded against his chest. "A pitiable sight, is it not?" Bellatrix just looked, watery eyes widening.

"No need to worry about that," he nodded at her dead body. "You will be on your way now."

"What happened to him?" Bellatrix asked him for the final time, even as she felt herself going. "He died after you. In a duel with Harry Potter." "Oh," she was defeated. Nothing, not even the last- years?- had prepared her for the pain those words delivered. All those hopes and dreams, her noble purpose, they were lost. The satyr was fading from her vision, Bellatrix was thankful to go. She hoped she would dissolve out of existence.


	3. Chapter 3

Bright sunlight made for a potent rouser. Bellatrix was blinded by it and she squeezed her eyes shut quickly. Something was very different, and not unpleasant. The warmth of the sun felt divine against her face. There was some soreness too, because she was lying on the ground, she realized. Carefully, she rolled over on her side. She would have to move slowly to regain her mobility. Something poked her and she moved her hand along her side to remove the offending object. She felt a long stick, and running her fingers along it, she realized it was _her_ wand. She clasped at it desperately.

Sight was beginning to return, she could see outlines of things. Fuzzy black shapes formed back into substance. Bellatrix gasped. Here was the world she left so long ago. The normalness of a valley framed by a blue sky was jarring to her eyes. She did not recognize the place, a valley between hills and what seemed to be a little town, but she had laid in this awkward position for so long that she believed they must be finished with her for now.

It was too much sensory overload, the bright colors of the world seemed to her so fantastic, they could be trickery. She looked down at her wand, by some great miracle it had returned. She shivered, and just _how_ had it returned? A memory came to mind of the agony that wand had dealt her with the Cruciatus. That thought triggered others and soon she was brooding over her deeds. _If you sit too long with your thoughts you'll go mad, move along_.

And now she was walking, well hobbling. _Yes… yes I have a body_, that's something she would have to keep reminding herself. In truth, she felt more alive than ever, certainly more energetic. Even her hands which gripped her wand were not so feeble. Then Bellatrix compelled herself to stop her movement, so she could think rationally. If this was a place she did not know it was likely a muggle one.

Oh yes, it was a muggle place alright, she could see that on perfunctory inspection. Here were those _cars_ that the muggles use, sunlight was reflecting off the ugly things. To go to the town meant she would make contact with them. That was something she had no intention of doing. And besides, even closer in the other direction, was an estate home. This was more appropriate, Bellatrix thought.

A loose plan was coming together. Bellatrix would go to the muggles there and use a charm or two to get her information and whatever necessities she needed from them before leaving. Nothing dramatic.

As she began a trek up the hill, a young woman was coming down to greet her. Perhaps she wasn't keen on strangers appearing in her garden, Bellatrix thought. She prepared her wand. "How do you do?" The woman stopped in front of Bellatrix and her brows narrowed in judgement as she appraised her dress, before turning her gaze to the wand. "You're one of them!" and she stepped back in a panic. For her part, Bellatrix was equally surprised, _She knows?_ _The muggles! They know?_ The possibilities scared her.

"Oh, and what am I?" It might be worthwhile to let her talk some more. She put her wand away. The woman was already recovering, "I mean you're a _real_ magician with powers." The girl's knowledge was clearly incomplete, certainly lacking.

"Does this… place know about people like me?" she asked carefully. "No, dear. Its only me as far as I know. I could see you from my home did you know that? When you appeared out of the sky, I thought you must be new." Bellatrix stared, provoking her to elaborate, "Did you just die, dear?"

"I- no… I don't know! How can I answer that when I don't even know where I am?" she snapped.

"I see," the woman gave her a pitying look, "Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside? Please, do come in?" _Oh, the nerve of this woman. _

But Bellatrix nodded her agreement and they made their way up together. _Then this muggle, no more than thirty years old, is the owner of this grand mansion?_ It was mystifying.

They moved into an open room connected to the entrance way and she was offered a seat. Then Bellatrix caught her reflection in the window walking by and stopped to inspect it. She screamed.

"Oh!" said her startled hostess.

Bellatrix turned to her, "Do you have a mirror?"

The woman chuckled, "Oh yes, please find one past the foyer on the first room to your right. And don't be too startled, it happens to everyone!" Bellatrix went briskly to the room to find a bathroom attached, and a full length mirror.

The image was a dream realized. Here was Bellatrix Lestrange, as she was in the early days during the First War. She was her twenty-seven year old self, or close enough. She petted at her lustrous black hair and pulled it over her shoulders. And her new face could fool, completely fresh and betraying nothing of her harsh adulthood. The lady of the manor had followed her in.

"Whose power accomplished this?"

The woman smiled, "Our understanding is that we return to our younger selves to better enjoy our new lives. Isn't it incredible?"

"I suppose so, Ms.-?" "You can call me Mary." "Bellatrix."

"Its good to meet you _Bell-a-trix_." The woman drew out her unfamiliar name. "Earlier, you had your wand out, what were you going to do to me?" She didn't sound upset.

"Confound you to get information and then be on my way." _Which I still reserve the right to do_, Bellatrix thought. "I see. Well, I know that being newly reborn can agitate. But I hope that we can sit and discuss it and I can answer some of your questions." Yes, she was begging Bellatrix not to use magic.

They were back in the entertaining room, seated on a cushy wood trimmed sofa. Her hostess offered her tea and Bellatrix took it. She wasn't thirsty but she wanted to experience taste which she had forgotten. "What year is it?" "Time is unimportant here, but there are some people who keep track, I will need to look at my papers." _Unbelievable_.

"What are the rules of this world and how is it different from the one before?" Mary set down her own drink, "Well its very much the same in nearly every way, if a place existed when you were alive it will be here. _And what of governance, what of irreversible events?_ And people too of course, they all come over." Bellatrix leaned forward, tears of joy were forming in her eyes. She wiped at them. "Yes, your loved ones will be waiting for you, Bellatrix." Her hostess gave her a warm smile. Hope was restored. _Let it be true, I'll do anything_, Bellatrix's heart was beating hard against her chest.

"If every place is the same as it was then I will be able to get back to my own home without trouble." She hadn't thought about apparition earlier. "It's good to hear that, but if you encounter any problems, you can try the bus at the station that will take you to London and closer stops," said Mary. Bellatrix laughed rudely, "And just who is manning these buses? You said time is meaningless, how will your muggle friends remember to operate them?"

Mary frowned, "People still return to work. No one is forced to go, positions are filled where needed to support our communities." "Hmm," Bellatrix could not believe that they worked of their own volition, people were fickle and lazy.

"And I forgot about my records, excuse me," Mary got up and walked to an adjacent room. She returned with a small pad, "It would be the year 1998, I'm afraid I can't provide you with the specifics." Bellatrix's stomach knotted, that couldn't be right.

The woman was staring at her curiously. "Do you have any connection to this town, Bellatrix? Its quite rare that we get new arrivals." Bellatrix shook her head. "I'm sure I've never seen this place before." They sat for a while in silence, sipping tea. It was… almost nice.

Mary was saying things to her, like how this home had been in her husband's family for generations, and how she loved her rural community. "My husband will be home soon, can I convince you to stay as a guest for a night?" It was clear to Bellatrix that Mary wanted to learn more about her, about the wizarding world. That would not do.

"No, Mary. I must be on my way." Mary stood up, "Let me show you out, then." Bellatrix walked past her through the door. She paused to turn back, there was little to offer, "I won't forget this."

….…..…..

Bellatrix arrived in a secluded area outside the village. It was still dangerous to try apparition in such an open area but as far as she could see there was no one around, and there was a fair amount of tree coverage.

But there was another problem, she had no place to go to. During her time in Azkaban the home she shared with Rodolphus had been bought and sold. Bellatrix also thought of the Malfoy Manor, of which Abraxas Malfoy must be the master. She would not be paying it a visit anytime soon. Still, she needed reassurance that this was not all a lie, that there remained something of her old world in this one.

Bellatrix shut her eyes, focused on her destination and… Nothing happened. In the fields ahead a red deer faun spotted her and pranced off.

"NO!" _What is happening to me? I can't lose my powers!_ She took out her wand. Maybe it was lack of practice. She pointed it at a tree, intending a multi-shot jinx. Her wand was unresponsive. "No, no- damn!" She tried a few more times and finally blasts of energy emerged from the tip and fired, scoring the tree on either side. _Hah! _She did the same to a few more trees down the line.

"Concentrate!" she tried once more to apparate, this time to another place, but there was nothing pulling her, no sign of anything associated with the process. Not even a beginner's nausea. "For Merlin's sake!" She slumped down against a tree she had just finished maiming.

Bellatrix was exhausted, she was making little wisps of energy with her wand and sending them jumping around. A hour or so passed without notice. She wanted to sleep but could find no comfort against the tree. It was not a good look to be laying out here like some kind of low-bred vagrant, she thought.

_Damn these muggles!_

….…..…..

Bellatrix made it to the station well before nightfall. "Where to, ma'am?" A stocky man wearing what must be the latest fashion in garish collared shirts greeted her. "I'll be going to London." "Right, we leave in 10, you're welcome to go on in now or wait." She looked around, a few people were standing about, some gave her interested glances. She was tired of speaking to muggles. Perhaps in the bus she could find a place to herself.

"I'll go in."

One other person was in before her, head down and occupied with his little muggle machine. Bellatrix selected a window seat towards the front. She leaned her head against the cool glass, it was apparent after sometime that few would be boarding. The witch tried to stay awake, after all how did she know she could trust these people? But the seat was too comfortable and she fell asleep shorty after departure.

"Ma'am! Please, we are here." Bellatrix jumped awake. The driver was standing at her row. "Ma'am, we are at the central London stop if this is your destination." A disembodied voice coming from everywhere and nowhere was speaking too, "Number 7 to St. Pancras." She brushed past him to exit at once, waking confusion turned to excitement.

It all came back in a volley of sight and sound as she stepped out to the hustle and bustle of nighttime London. Bellatrix took no more than a minute to collect herself, looking up she saw the great clock tower of the station illuminated. On the other side of the splendid structure and across the way, is another station, which transports magical children away for school each summer. The witch fell in behind an unassociated group of revelers. There was a certain rhythm to the steps of the spirited, magic or no, thought Bellatrix. Nostalgia emblazoned the night.

The place she was looking for was nearby, or at least she was convinced it must be. 12 Grimmauld Place might have been hers once and the loss of it was still a mystery. The Ancestral Home of the Most Ancient House of Black was situated in a muggle neighborhood, true, but strategically it would have made for a fitting base. She knew the enemy had captured it during the war and masked its location. At one point after Sirius' death she had even undertook to find it. The home's true owner would have learned the location but it eluded her time and again until they'd discovered it on accident.

Yes, the whole idea to search again might prove unwise, Sirius would be the man of the house by right unless nasty Walburga forced him out- such was the might of the woman's will. The thought brought a smile to her lips and a spring to her step. She would observe from a reasonable distance, there was little else to do.

The whole idea was of course riding on the assumption that the location of 12 Grimmauld Place was where it had been in her youth, that there was no reason to conceal it in peacetime_. Is it peacetime? _It certainly seemed that way now, at least among the muggle populace. But it was hard to imagine a reality without conflict, how could she hope to adjust to it?

Bellatrix let a general sense of direction rather than precise knowledge dictate her actions. It would be most helpful to locate the cherub fountain that demarcated the newer homes from the old townhouses. She found it after walking the streets for another ten minutes. It was an old rusted thing, like the townhouses, yet the fountain played. She couldn't remember if that had always been the case.

She went along, now more alert. There was no one down this way, dim lampposts and the light from the occasional window were her only assistance. Though she was likely in the right place it was too dark to be certain. Really the people in charge here should be doing a better job with upkeep, especially the lighting, Bellatrix thought. She came to the signpost.

The witch guided her wand to touch it, "Lumos," she whispered. The print read, Grimmauld Place. _And now to see if there was ever a 12_. "Nox." Bellatrix caught a slight chill in the air. She proceeded further down the street while entertaining some thought about the residents of the borough and their stock, How did they think up who should stay and who should go? All their dead could not fit inside one muggle home. Bellatrix stopped, here was 13, and next to it was 12. She could see hints of light from behind the shades, the occupants were not in bed.

_Why did I come?_ Maybe she had wanted to provoke a fight but now, standing at the stoop of her family's home, that desire was made ridiculous. _And to what end? _She stood there for too long, hands clasped together and staring at the worn wall. If anyone would have passed in that time, they would have guessed she was in prayer. She decided then that she would not return here and she would not go to the home of her mother and father.

Bellatrix turned back, there was only one destination left tonight, and her feet were getting tired.

* * *

**Author's note:**

Happy New Year and thanks to all you readers! This entry is very appropriate for the season I think, and after torturing Bella for two chapters straight its nice to change the mood. Hoping you will enjoy this next chapter especially.


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